Llamada y Respuesta
by babywitch
Summary: In which there is a storm, a journey, and a revelation. Gilmore Girls Crossover. BrightJess. Slash.


Llamada y Respuesta  
  
i  
  
Bright feels the storm before he's even looked up. The air is heavy. Its weight makes the simplest of movements difficult, laborious. Expectation is draped from the branches of trees; it travels through spider webs and telephone wires, bouncing from molecule to molecule. Sounds seem amplified in the growing silence. The creaking protest of the hammock when Bright stands up could be a scream, the snapping of a twig a gunshot.  
  
The wind picks up as Bright goes inside to wash his hands before dinner. The rain will start in a few minutes and last through the night. Morning will bring damp sidewalks, dripping leaves, a lightness in the air accompanying the rise of the sun. Bright will leave with the storm.  
  
ii  
  
Bright watches the sky and thinks the story about angels and pianos is bullshit. He listens to the whispers of raindrops on leaves, the gentle whirring of his ceiling fan, and the rasp of Amy's breath from the next room. Though he knows it's only a case of strep, Bright thinks it sounds like his sister is dying.  
  
Images flash through his mind. Amy wheeled out of her room on a stretcher. His mother's eyes filling with tears, sinking into a maroon hospital chair. A coffin lowering into the ground. Colin dressed in black, his face devoid of emotion, wondering why he's the one attending the funeral when he always imagined it'd be the other way around.  
  
A streak of lightning, thick and white, cleaves the sky in two. It branches out and forms fingers, groping their way across the horizon, searching. Are you there? Bright inhales, holds the air in his chest, feels the pressure build slowly. Counts.  
  
One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand, four-one --  
  
Thunder begins to rumble. Bright lets go of his breath. The rumbling reminds him of how, on the eighth grade rafting trip, he'd heard the rapids before he'd seen them. The thunder grows louder, filling the valley, bouncing off the mountains, answering. I'm here.  
  
iii  
  
The front of the car stops just before the state line. Bright cuts the engine and gets out to consider, one last time, what he's doing.  
  
He's leaving, yes. From the time that he realized in a concrete way that there was more to the world than one town, one state, Bright knew that he wouldn't stay. He knew that he didn't quite fit in, that he was tagging along behind the Everwood Drama Parade.  
  
What he's not sure of is whether he'll feel like he belongs somewhere else. He had a dream once where he was abducted by aliens who thought that he was one of their long lost relatives, gone astray when his spaceship crashed on Earth. When they realized that he was just a human, and not a particularly remarkable one at that, they'd put him in the garbage and shot him off into space. He'd floated around in the dark until he woke up.  
  
iv  
  
Bright recounts his trip briefly in his mind and wonders if it's just the emptiness in the desert that makes Venice Beach seem so busy. On second consideration, he decides that it may be the most vivid, colorful, and dizzying place he's ever seen. The dizzying part may be due to the fact that he hasn't eaten all day, but even on a full stomach Bright thinks Venice would probably feel like a overgrown carnival land, tanned and sleek from the sun, licking cotton candy goo off its fingertips.  
  
He's parked his beloved truck behind - what else? - a surf shop. The sun is dipping toward the ocean, but Bright wants to stretch his legs a little and get something to eat before looking for a place to sleep tonight. He passes girls wearing what he supposes are bathing suits that look more like conveniently located strings, board-shorts-clad boys carrying surf boards as naturally as textbooks, and several older people dressed like hippies, complete with headbands and peace-sign necklaces. A bald man with a yellow walky-talky and a cardboard sign reading "ALBERTANE OR BUST" asks him for spare change, and Bright digs around in his pocket and gives him a dollar and a strange look.  
  
He's about to head down to the water when a voice behind him calls, "You look hungry." Bright turns to see a head with dark, messy hair leaning over the counter of a hot dog stand, looking in his direction. All it takes is one direct whiff of the scent of grilling hot dogs and soft pretzels and Bright changes his direction. The postcard-perfect ocean is easily put aside in favor of satisfying Bright's growling stomach.  
  
v  
  
Life, Bright thinks, isn't so much about fitting in as it is about fitting. Period. Like now, for example. There's drool on his chest (not his own) and Jess has turned out to be quite the cover-hog, but there's also a hand, and it's holding Bright's hand, and for some reason this is about the coolest thing Bright has ever experienced. Fingers twisted around each other, Jess' bitten cuticles, the scar on Bright's thumb from fifth grade. Not that the events of the evening were at all disappointing.  
  
Though they're several blocks away from the ocean, in a house with rooms in every color of the rainbow and then some, Bright can smell its salt in the air and faintly hear the swishy-slursh of its waves against the beach. He feels small, but in a different way than he's accustomed to. In Everwood, the smallness was mostly due to being stuck in a place where both mountains and people became walls. Here, Bright thinks it's more like going swimming and realizing that he could swim all day and not get to Japan, and being okay with that and turning over on his back and floating.  
  
On the other hand, Bright just got laid, a fact which is probably contributing more than slightly to these unfamiliar positive emotions. Bright's not used to being an optimist. Nevertheless, he's encouraged by the way Jess has left his door unlocked, not caring if his - dad? Step- dad? Bright isn't quite clear on Jess' family situation - opens it and finds them in bed together.  
  
Before succumbing to sleep, Bright gives Jess' hand a small, almost non- existent squeeze, as if to make sure it's still there. Are you there? Jess' fingers tighten around his own, though he shows no signs of wakefulness. I'm here. 


End file.
